


Bittersweet Confessions

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Confessions, F/F, F/M, Love Confessions, Married Mary Morstan/John Watson, Mary loves John, Mutually Unrequited, Not Over Each Other, POV Mary, POV Mary Morstan, Past Janine/Mary Morstan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary loves her husband, but a part of her still loves Janine. And she's surprised to learn that even though Janine appears to have moved on, Janine still loves her as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet Confessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sydster999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydster999/gifts).



> And this is a much less fluffy and much more bittersweet contribution to Femslash February, and my first time ever writing the Janine/Mary ship. I was asked to write this by **sydster999** with one of my randomly picked prompts, which was [this picture](http://s18.postimg.org/6e65zexjd/I_Can_t_Unlove_You_Prompt.jpg) which I had saved from I'm not sure where (if you know, please tell me so I can credit). I hope you enjoy, hun!

She loved John, she did. Mary adored her husband and loved him with all her heart and never regretted for a moment marrying him and having the live she had with him. She wouldn’t give up any moment of it, wouldn’t change anything at all about it. He had loved her even when he could have looked at the flash drive, seen every tidbit of her past, seen the dark bits and given her up for good. He loved her for the woman she was now and to hell with the woman she was before.

And really, she could never have asked for a better man than that, a better person than that.

But if he had looked at the drive, he would have learned the truth behind her friendship with Janine. The depth of it.

The fact that it had been, at one point, _much_ more intimate.

She had gone to shoot Magnussen for him and for her, but also for Janine, for _their_ history. When she had shot Sherlock she had damned herself but bartered for Janine’s freedom, because a part of her still loved the woman, still cared for her. She could tell the world they were friends, and tell herself they were still friends, and very well believe it for the most part, but a part of her knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

But she would never act on it, because it would only hurt John, and it would hurt Janine. She had a life with a man who adored her, and she was happy. And Mary wanted her happy. That was what you did for the people you loved, right? That was what you wanted for them? Their happiness? If that was true, then that was what she wanted most for Janine, even if her heart ached a little at the smile on Janine’s face that wasn’t directed at her.

She’d had a dinner party and Janine had come alone; her fiancé had been unable to come with her from Sussex and so she’d shown up with two nice bottles of wine that the entire dinner party had agreed were exquisite. John was entertaining a few of the guests and Mary was outside, enjoying a balmy spring evening, looking up at the stars in the sky as she sipped her glass when Janine joined her. “That was an excellent supper, love,” Janine said, standing close but not too close.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mary said, turning her head to turn look at Janine. She gave her a small smile, seeing the wider one on Janine’s face falter. “Janine…”

“You’re pulling away,” Janine said quietly, taking a step closer. “You call less, email less. When we talk, we chat less. Did I do something wrong, Mary?”

“No,” Mary said, shaking her head. “No, Janine, it’s…not you. I promise, it’s not you.”

Janine nodded, then took a sip of her wine. “I have to be honest with you,” she said slowly, as though she didn’t want to admit what she was about to say, as though it pained her to say it. “I think about you a lot. All the time, actually. In the morning, at night, in the middle of my day. It's you. It's just always you. I didn’t want you to marry John. I never wanted you to marry John. But I knew I could never be with you, not with… _his_ hold over me. So I let you go.”

Mary shut her eyes. It hurt her to hear that because she knew that feeling. She did. She knew the feeling to have the thoughts be there. Maybe not as frequent, not these days, but there had been a time where all she could think of was Janine. “But you love your fiancé.”

“I do,” Janine said with a nod. “But I can’t unlove you. I think I’ll always love you. And maybe, eventually, I’ll love you less, but I’ll always love you. I’ll remember what you were willing to give up for me, what you _did_ do for me, and I’ll always love you for that.”

Mary felt a lump in her throat. She’d wanted to hear these words for so long, she really had. And now there were other people involved, other people who could be hurt. There was so much to lose, so much that could be ruined. But still, it helped to hear. After a moment she reached over to her side with her free hand and brushed her fingers against Janine’s hand. Janine grasped her hand, caressing it gently before grasping it. It was nice to feel for a moment. “Thank you,” Mary said quietly, trying not to let any tears slip down. She could keep her composure, she could.

“You’re welcome, love,” Janine said, giving Mary’s hand a squeeze and holding it gently for a few moments before letting it go. When Janine let go Mary opened her eyes and saw Janine was giving her an all too familiar fond smile. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit. Do you want me to occupy John for a little while before I send him out here?”

Mary nodded. “Thank you,” she said. Janine gave a nod of her own and then turned and headed back into Mary’s home. Mary watched until she was gone from her sight and then turned back to look back at the night sky. Eventually, she knew she would need to reveal this bit of her past to John, the full extent of it, the length and breadth and depth of her feelings for Janine. He would need to understand how much she had loved her, and just how important Janine was to her, and why it meant so much that she would choose him over and over, time and again. Because while she could never truly unlove Janine, she had grown to love her husband more, and that made him the one she would choose to be with until the day she died.


End file.
